


in the middle of the night

by dizzy



Series: we're all dying anyway 2019 daily fic advent [16]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, background ben/beverly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Richie and Eddie (along with everyone else) go to their first all night skate.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: we're all dying anyway 2019 daily fic advent [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559167
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68
Collections: IT Fandom Secret Santa 2019





	in the middle of the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



The woman at the ticket booth smells like cigarettes. Her face is craggy with deep lines and her hair is a too-yellow shade of blonde done in curls close to her head. Her name tag reads Mary. 

She looks at them immediately like she doesn't trust them, even when Bill gives her his 'good boy' smile. "S-s-even all night skates," he says. 

"No one under thirteen," she says, eyes on Eddie. 

Richie can feel Eddie bristling beside him, five foot six of pure indignance. "I'm sixteen," he snaps. His voice breaks somewhere between six and teen. 

Mary purses her lips. "Any trouble and we remove you." 

"Yes ma'am," Bill says. 

They all take turns handing sour old Mary their money, three fifty each for entry plus fifty cents extra for their skate rentals. 

It'll be a good night. 

*

"You have to tie the laces tight," Eddie says, for at least the fifth time. 

They're sitting on the octagon shaped table/benches across from the skate area, the ones covered in weird scratchy material that looks just like Richie's grandma's carpet. Richie was the first to get his skates, using his long-legged advantage. Eddie hasn't even gone up to the counter yet. He's too busy putting on his kneepads and his elbow pads. 

Mrs. K. tried to send a helmet with him too, but Richie had wrestled it out of Eddie's hands and tossed it in the corner of his room. Eddie hadn't really been fighting him all that much on it, anyway. He'd only taken the helmet from his mother because he had to agree to everything she said. This is the first time she's let him do an all night skate, and he has a sandwich baggie full of quarters that he has to use on the payphone inside the rink. One call ever hour, she made him promise. 

Richie won't even try to talk him out of that. As much as he's all for giving Mrs. K. hell for her overbearing ways, he hopes this is the start of many a Friday night they get to spend in Happy Wheels busting their butts and eating lukewarm slices of pizza with congealed cheese. 

"I know, I know," Richie grumbles, hiding a grin with the dip of his head as he leaves the laces loose enough to make Eddie huff and reach out to grab Richie's leg. 

"Ought to just let you fall and break your fucking ass," Eddie grumbles, as he does the laces up just right. 

*

Everyone else hits the floor as soon as they have their skates on, all secure in the knowledge that there's no real need to wait on anyone else. They've got hours and hours in front of them, until the sun rises. 

Excitement bubbles in Richie's chest again. He's hanging around, rolling his feet back and forth against the carpeted floor, watching as Eddie meticulously inspects the skates he's been handed to make sure the wheels aren't loose and the laces aren't frayed in any spots. 

He sends three pairs back before getting one he's satisfied with. The bored woman behind the counter looks glad to be rid of him, but that's alright. Richie's happy enough to have him back, standing and skating in lazy circles as Eddie gets ready to join him. 

*

Everyone splinters off into their own little sets and small groups. A couple of guys Mike knows from church are here, and he's sitting with them at the food court area drinking sodas and laughing. Ben and Beverly are skating in lazy circles and making eyes at each other. Stan's chatting to the girl that Richie knows he's got a crush on. 

"Bet they make out before the night is over," Richie says. 

He and Eddie are still skating side by side. They're slower than Richie would be going if he were alone, but Eddie's nervous about getting hurt and Richie might fuck around with a lot of things but he's not gonna make Eddie feel bad for that. 

At least not on purpose. He does fuck up sometimes, or he wouldn't be Richie Tozier. 

"Who?" Eddie asks, then looks at where Richie points then scoffs. "Stan and Carla? No way." 

"Totally way," Richie says. "Look at Stan the Man making those moves. He's at least six inches closer to her than he was half an hour ago." 

Eddie presses his lips together judgementally and shakes his head. "I don't buy it." 

"I think you're just jealous," Richie says, suddenly skating a bit faster and the turning around so that he's going backwards. 

"You're gonna fucking fall!" Eddie's eyes flash alarm. 

Richie laughs. "Please, I'm good, you know it." 

"I don't know how," Eddie says. "You're supposed to be clumsy." 

Richie shrugs. "We've all got our gifts. Anyway, you're jealous." 

"I am not!" Eddie spits out. "Why the fuck would I be jealous?" 

"Because you wanna get some of that sweet, sweet action." 

"From Carla? No thanks." The disgust on Eddie's face is palpable. 

Richie laughs. "I'll tell Stan what you think of his taste in the lay-deez."

"She's fine, I guess, whatever, but I'm just - no." 

"You're just no?" Richie doesn't know why he's pushing it. It's just one of those things, like a big red button he can't help but jab his finger against. He doesn't even know what answer he wants Eddie to give. He certainly doesn't want to hear that Eddie wants to kiss anyone here tonight. 

He's not even sure what he'd do if Eddie did. Probably something humiliating like burst into tears. 

Eddie does start to answer, but as if fate wants to intervene one of his skates suddenly stops behaving the way it's suppose to and he wobbles to the side. Richie reaches out and grabs him easily, hands cupping Eddie's elbows to stabilize him. They both slow, people whizzing all around them. 

"Thanks," Eddie mumbles, straightening up. 

Richie shrugs and lets his hands drop to his sides. "That's what I'm here for. Richie Tozier, CEP. Certified Eddie Protector."

Eddie rolls his eyes and tries to skate away from Richie, dramatic flair slightly undercut by the fact that Richie easily catches up to him. 

*

There's an arcade, because - of course there's an arcade. What self-respecting facility catering to the youth of their generation wouldn't have at least a token Street Fighter machine on display? It might not come close to what Richie's used to, but tucked into the corner is a wall of a dozen or so machines with an air hockey table right in front of it. 

When Eddie says he needs a break, that's exactly where Richie knows he wants to go. Eddie doesn't go voluntarily, but he really can't skate well so it's not like he can do much about it when Richie grabs him by the shoulders and manually pushes them in that direction. 

"I hate you," Eddie informs him, but he plops down on unsteady legs the second the first bench comes into view. 

"Don't talk that way about your future step-dad, Eds," Richie scolds. He reaches in his pocket and digs out some of the quarters he stole from his mother's swear jar just for this explicit purpose. "Play with me? You can pick what game." 

Eddie whines. "You're just gonna beat me." 

Richie shrugs. It's not his fault he spends all his time at the arcade when Eddie's mom won't let him out. 

Eddie picks Hexion to play, and it's a good choice because Richie hasn't spent too much time on that one. They feed quarter after quarter in - some of Eddie's phone money after Richie goes through his pilfered collection of coins - and it's good. It's so good Richie could burst, not the game itself but standing arm to arm with Eddie hearing his laughter and a Janet Jackson song playing in the background, color lights bumping and flashing all over them. 

His stomach does that flipping thing it does sometimes again and Eddie catches him staring, but that's okay too. He's still smiling when Eddie says, "What?" in that peculiar voice. 

"Nothing," Richie says, grinning. He doesn't feel any of the bad things right now, only the good. "You're just cute." 

Eddie looks back at the screen, trying to scowl but unable to really manage it with the way the corners of his mouth keep turning up anyway. 

A few minutes later Stan and Bill find them and they move over to The Simpsons since that one's a four player and Richie thinks he may not want to leave this moment ever. Video games and his best friends and Eddie right at his side. It's not just a nice night, it's may be the _best_ night. 

*

They eat greasy pizza at midnight, all of them crammed in a booth seat that really isn't big enough for all their bodies. 

Ben looks sleepy already and so does Eddie, just a little bit, though Richie buys him a coke because he knows what caffeine does to Eddie. 

"Stanley the Manly," Richie says. "Saw you doing the ole yawn and arm stretch with Carla, tell me - did she slap you and throw a glass of water in your face, or might you perchance peek a daring bit of ankle tonight?" 

He slips into the voice halfway through, and everyone groans. 

"I'm going to throw a glass of water in your face," Stan informs him. "Carla's nice." 

Richie takes a too-big bite of pizza and then chews open mouthed. Eddie groans and pretends to gag beside him. "You are an actual child," Eddie says. 

"Be quiet or I'll tell Grandma Moses up there that you're actually thirteen after all," Richie says, poking Eddie in the side. 

Eddie jumps and glares and slaps Richie's hand. 

"Never mind," Stan says. "I'll just let Eddie throw the glass of water in your face. He's got better proximity anyway." 

Richie slings an arm around Eddie's shoulder. "My Eds would never. He loves me." 

Eddie half-pretends to elbow Richie (and half actually does), but he doesn't disagree and that's what Richie chooses to remember from the moment. 

*

They start the skating games an hour later, probably just keep everyone from curling up somewhere and falling asleep. 

"No way," Eddie says. 

"You gotta!" Richie grabs him, pleading. "Come on! It's the Hokey Pokey!" 

"I'm going to break my neck." Eddie enunciates carefully. 

Richie doesn't bother pointing out that Eddie ditched the kneepads and elbow pads two hours ago and all of those bones associated with the protective covers have remained intact.

"We can go slow..." Richie tempts. 

"Ben," Beverly says suddenly, eyes swinging around right on him. "You're gonna do it with me, right?" 

Ben's face goes bright red, but he nods. "Sure, Beverly." 

"Okay, come on." Richie looks at Eddie again. "You can't let them beat us." 

Eddie frowns. "I still think it sounds dangerous." 

Richie pokes his lower lip out. "Please?" 

Somehow, miracle of miracles, that works. 

He and Eddie stand across a stretch of wooden floor from each other, Eddie in one line of people and Richie in the other, laughing and making faces as they take turns sticking out right arms and left arms and legs and various other body parts, shaking everything all about. 

And every time the speakers pipe out the line 'turn yourself around' they skate toward each other, grasping hands and spinning each other around and around in the wash of colored lights.

*

Around three, Eddie really starts to yawn. 

They're having a couples skate on the floor, dimmed out lights and a spotlight roaming just to keep anyone from getting a little too close for their not-so-gentle dictator Mary's approval. 

Richie takes advantage of the half-dark to grab Eddie's hand. "Come on," he says, doing a voice that may be somewhere between Chicago mobster and general New York City. "I know a place." 

Eddie holds his hand back, squeezing just tightly enough for Richie's heart to suddenly beat in triple speed. 

The place Richie knows is a table tucked into the back corner, on the far end down from the now closed up skate rentals counter. "We can chill out here," he says. 

He's not actually sure where everyone else is. The place is only so big, unless they decided to bail and go home, but Richie and Mike are the only ones with cars so Richie doubts it. He just knows he's happy to not be seeing them right now, because this is all he craves - just him and Eddie sitting back on the stupid weird shaped tables. It's so far in the corner they can even rest their backs against the walls, so that's exactly what they do. 

"This is fun," Eddie says, almost like a confession. The sleepiness to his voice gives it a twist of sweet that makes Richie's chest pang. 

"Yeah?" Richie asks. "Good." 

He was afraid Eddie would hate it. He can't quite say it in those words, because repression is a powerful beast, but lately there are a lot of things he wants that he's afraid Eddie will hate. 

He feels a warm soft touch to his hand and looks down. Eddie's fingers are brushing his own, and then Richie forgets to breathe because he's watching Eddie's hand turn palm up and his fingers spread wide slightly. 

"Rich," Eddie whispers. 

Richie moves his hand and rests it on top of Eddie's, palm to palm. Their fingers lock and curl together. 

The Cure is playing for all the skaters still making lazy passes around the floor, and Richie's not sure he's ever felt the lyrics to a song more keenly than he does right now. He already knows he's going to go home and add it to a dozen different mix tapes because Monday's blue and Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too and it's Friday and he's holding hands with the only boy - only person - he's ever really liked. 

* 

Eddie falls asleep on him. 

He even drools a little. 

Richie doesn't mind. He sees out the last stretch of hours in a state of half-sleep sitting up against the wall, listening to music that's playing still a bit too loudly and trying to memorize every moment of it. 

*

At six in the morning they do a last call. Richie shakes Eddie just a little bit, as much as he hates to. 

Or maybe he doesn't, because it's awfully cute the way Eddie's face scrunches up in confusion. He doesn't even get the words of whatever question he's going to ask out before the final song ends and the lights turn up, so bright all of a sudden that everyone groans in unison. 

*

They find the rest of the guys and Beverly as they trade their skates back in for their shoes. 

"My calves are going to hurt for a month," Ben complains, rubbing his leg. 

"You held your own, new kid." Beverly smiles and Ben smiles back and it's not that Richie's blind, it's just that theirs isn't the teen romance he's invested in. 

"How'd you do, Eddie?" Bill asks. "You got p-p-pretty good, I saw you out there. Richie must be a good teacher." 

"He is. I guess. When he wasn't scaring me half to death. It was fun," Eddie says, yawning. "I want to go home and sleep for real now though." 

They all agree to that. 

* 

Eddie's mom is already in the parking lot when they walk out, squinting in the early morning sun. Richie's dropping almost everyone else off, but Mrs. K. needed to see with her very own eyes that her precious child made it through intact. 

Richie knows he isn't imagining how Eddie slows down walking towards her. He knows it even more when Eddie turns to Richie with slightly questioning eyes. "Thanks." 

He doesn't ask what Eddie's thanking him for, even though he doesn't actually know why he's being thanked. Instead he just tries his best to smile without all his nerves on display and shrugs and says, "You too," back. 

For a second he wishes he could hug Eddie too and he thinks maybe - maybe Eddie wishes the same thing. But Mrs. K. lays on the horn and Eddie grimaces and says a quick, "I'll call you later," before he's getting into the passenger side. 

He can feel eyes on him so he turns around with exaggerated brightness in a Robin Williams voice and says, "Gooooood morning, Vietnam! Who's down for some sausage biscuits?"

Everyone groans - mostly at the voice - but they head toward Richie's car. As he opens the creaking driver's side door, he glances up and takes a moment to appreciate the splash of post-sunrise colors in the sky. 

It was a good night, and now he's ready for a good day, too.


End file.
